


I’d like to see you have your way

by iambic_pulse, phanjessmagoria



Series: Show me the way you move [1]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (he fucks it up though bless), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Dom Ashton, Dom Luke, Dom Michael, Dom/sub, Felching, M/M, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Restraints, Rimming, Spanking, Sub Ashton, Sub Calum, Sub Luke, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6378643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iambic_pulse/pseuds/iambic_pulse, https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashton asks Luke to take control of him one night, just for a little change of pace. It doesn't go as well as he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Luke.”

Blue eyes opened slowly to meet hazel as Luke turned his face up from where he was kneeling over the side of the bed. The corners of his eyes felt wet and his head felt hazy, but seeing Ashton solidified the feeling in his chest that this was _right_.

“Did you hear what I asked you?” Ashton said, and Luke squeezed his eyes shut. He lowered his face and shook his head.

“No.”

“You weren’t listening,” Ashton said, demanding an answer more than asking a question.

“Sorry,” Luke said quickly. He wiggled his fingers. His hands were trapped beneath his body, bound at the wrist by one of Ashton’s bandanas—the blue one, he thought, but it might have been black. Not that the color mattered—he was more focused on what Ashton was doing behind him.

“If you want this, you have to pay attention,” Ashton said, tone just edging on condescending.

“I do want it,” Luke said, hurriedly—he wanted it more than he thought he could express in words.

“Clearly you don’t,” Ashton said, admonishing him. He smoothed his hand over Luke’s bare ass, and Luke whined softly. He knew what was coming. “How many do you think you deserve, baby?”

The pet name made Luke wince, just a little. Ashton typically didn’t use them, at least not with Luke, and when he did, Luke knew it meant he was in trouble. Ashton was waiting for him to answer, but he was never sure just how badly he’d offended Ashton with his misbehavior—it always seemed to vary wildly, depending on how Ashton felt. Not listening today could be worth five, but tomorrow it could be worth ten.

“Ten?” Luke guessed, and Ashton laughed, his hand still rubbing gently against Luke’s ass. He wasn’t sure if the laugh was a good or bad thing.

“ _Ten_?” Ashton repeated, his amusement audible in his voice. “Jesus, you stopped listening for a minute. It’s not that bad. How about five?”

Luke just nodded; any input he could have had would have been ignored, anyway.

Ashton gave his ass a small warning tap, not enough to cause anything other than momentary shock. “Use your words or it _will_ be ten.”

“Five,” Luke echoed the number. “Five is good.”

“Five,” Ashton confirmed. “And after, I’m going to ask you again. Listen this time.”

Luke nodded and then, because he felt more than heard Ashton’s intake of breath to remind him to speak, quickly said, “I will.”

“Good boy,” Ashton said, voice low, practically purring at Luke as he pet his lower back. Luke felt his chest swell—Ashton thought he was a good boy.

His chest rapidly decompressed, though, when Ashton’s hand landed for the first time on his ass, the slap loud in the quiet room. Luke was prepared enough, and well-trained enough, to know that he had to keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want to start all over, but the thought that Calum and Michael next door had heard it made his cock strain a bit, the head dragging against the rough texture of the blankets on the bed. Luke pulled himself out of his thoughts, counting loud enough that Ashton could hear him and know he was still present. “One.”

Ashton moved his hand, the one he wasn’t using to hit him, to Luke’s arm, resting it just above his elbow, where it disappeared beneath his body. He squeezed it just a little, unconsciously bracing himself for the second one—his hand came down in nearly the same spot as the first time. Luke knew Ashton probably thought it was the same place, but Luke could tell that it was just a fraction higher. His skin felt hot, but he knew he could take it. “Two.”

Ashton moved his hand over Luke’s asscheek, the one he’d hit twice, his palm rough against it. It stung just enough that Luke tried to escape the friction, and he knew as soon as he did it that 1) he shouldn’t have, and 2) Ashton had noticed. He stopped moving, his hand clamping down tight around Luke’s elbow.

“Problem?” Ashton asked—he sounded harsh, but Luke knew that he could ask to stop and Ashton would let him. Luke’s breath squeaked as he tried to speak, but he tried again after swallowing the knot in his throat.

“No,” Luke said, making sure to keep his voice steady. All he had to do was endure three more, and then Ashton would take care of him, just like he always did.

“Do I need to start over?”

“ _No_ ,” Luke insisted. “No, I’ll be good.”

Ashton didn’t respond verbally. Luke braced himself when he felt Ashton’s hand move away from his backside, and then come down again, on the other side of his ass. He dipped his head down, forehead against the mattress. Ashton was so good to him, doing this for him, teaching him how to behave the right way. Luke had to be good for him too. “Three.”

There was no pause between the third and the fourth, no time for Luke to recuperate or brace himself again. Ashton was watching him; he waited for Luke to lift his head, take a breath, before giving him another hard slap, this one much lower, practically on his thigh. It hurt just a bit less, which meant Luke liked it a bit less, and he sounded unsatisfied. “Four.”

“Really,” Ashton said, voice thoughtful. Luke wasn’t sure what he was asking about, or if he was even expecting an answer, so he didn’t say anything. Ashton removed his hand from Luke’s arm, shifting his position so he was kneeling between Luke’s legs. Using his knees, he pushed Luke’s thighs further apart, as far as he could. Luke shivered a little; he was completely exposed to Ashton like this, his cock likely visible between his legs. He could feel his thighs shaking just a little, from the strain of holding his body up while spread so wide.

“Last one,” Ashton said, and Luke could tell from how it sounded like Ashton was teasing him that something was coming that he didn’t expect. Luke resisted the urge to try and look over his shoulder. He remained unmoving for a long time, long enough that he was able to count the seconds well into the double-digits before he felt Ashton’s body tense up, his knees angling slightly differently against Luke’s calves.

This time, when Ashton hit him, his hand came down between his cheeks, right on his hole, and Luke bucked his hips forward into the bed, muffling his voice with the bedcovers. He was gasping but managed, “ _Five_.”

He kept his face pressed into the bed, even as Ashton rubbed Luke’s hole with his full hand, not really soothing him as much as teasing him.

“Are you going to listen now?” Ashton asked.

Luke lifted his face from the bed, turning to look at Ashton, still behind him, still moving his hand over Luke. “I’m already listening,” he answered.

“I asked you, before, if you wanted me to eat your pretty little ass.”

Luke resisted saying yes, because that wasn’t how this worked. He swallowed and waited for Ashton to continue.

“Do you?” he asked again.

“If you want to,” Luke said.

“If I want to,” Ashton sneered. “You do want it, don’t you?” He moved the tip of his pointer finger over Luke’s hole.

“I—” Luke managed, before the tip of Ashton’s finger barely caught on his rim, opening him slightly before moving away.

“ _Words_ ,” Ashton prompted.

“I want you to, if you want to,” Luke said, fucking praying that this was the right answer, or at least, if it wasn’t, that Ashton would take pity on him and just eat him out already.

“I do want to,” Ashton said, and Luke clenched his hands into fists in celebration of his victory. He heard Ashton move backward, the muffled shuffling over the carpet making Luke tense up in anticipation of what Ashton was going to do to him.

The next time Ashton’s hands came down on Luke’s ass, his touch was miles away from earlier—he was soft and gentle, taking care not to push too hard against Luke, especially where he’d hit him.

“I want to hear you,” Ashton said, and Luke knew it was partly for his benefit, and partly for Michael and Calum’s, if they were even listening next door. Luke fucking hoped they were. He hoped Michael was balls deep in Calum, listening to Ashton work him over, or that Michael was swallowing around the head of Calum’s dick, tears running down his cheeks as he opened his throat for Calum’s come.

“Yes,” Luke said, half in response to Ashton and half at what he was imagining their bandmates doing.

There was a long pause—Luke had just begun counting the seconds again when Ashton’s hands slid a bit further down his ass, pulling his cheeks apart just a little further. Apparently he was through teasing, because he licked a long, lingering stripe up over Luke, making absolutely sure to press the muscle against his hole, putting pressure on it. Luke whined above him, rocking his hips back. Ashton allowed it—it’s not like it was fucking easy to stay still in the position he was in.

Ashton pulled back from Luke, his hands still splayed out on his ass; Luke squirmed a little beneath him, like he knew Ashton was watching him. He said nothing, though, and Ashton was proud of how far Luke had come from when they started this. He used to be a petulant, impatient little shit, and now he obeyed Ashton without a second thought.

“You’re a good boy, Luke,” Ashton said, and backed his words up by rewarding him. He moved one of his hands, angling his wrist a bit differently so he could reach over with his thumb, rubbing it over Luke’s hole. Luke sighed, the sound slightly muffled by the covers on the bed. Ashton stopped. Luke lifted his head.

“I said I wanted to hear you,” Ashton reminded him, and Luke swallowed thickly.

“Sorry,” he said, and instead of scolding him further, Ashton rubbed Luke’s hole again, circling his rim slowly, trying to draw noise, any noise, from him.

A breathy sigh fell from Luke’s lips, changing to a whimper when Ashton pulled his thumb away. The word “please” was halfway out of Luke’s mouth before he felt Ashton’s tongue again, licking upward over him, the tip dipping into his hole.

Ashton reveled in the noises Luke was making each time his tongue moved over him, the sighs turning to whimpers turning to moans, until Ashton squeezed down on Luke’s ass, pulling him open even further. Luke whined, shifting his knees and pushing back into Ashton’s hands, partly because he knew Ashton would like it, and partly because he didn’t want to be tempted at all to jerk his cock forward into the bedsheets for some much-wanted friction or to touch himself with his still-bound hands, both of which Ashton would _not_ like.

Luke was breathing so heavily that he couldn’t make out any sounds other than the air rattling in and out of his lungs and the pounding of his heart in his chest, beating so hard he thought his ribs might crack, but Ashton could hear every single filthy, wet sound his tongue made against Luke’s ass, opening him up for his fingers and then for his cock. Ashton pulled back and replaced his tongue with his forefinger, rubbing over Luke’s asshole in small circles, gently working him open. Luke whined loudly, biting his lip.

“Don’t hold back, Lukey,” Ashton muttered, not really even paying attention to what he was saying anymore. The longer he worked Luke’s hole open, the more he wanted to just be inside of him already. He pulled away, placing his palms flat on Luke’s ass to spread him open again. Luke moaned in desperation, not just wanting more but needing it. Ashton had been teasing him for what felt like hours; Luke’s legs were shaking and his cock was hard, _so_ fucking hard, precome leaking out of the tip freely. He could feel the wetness spread to his thighs if he moved his body just right.

“Ash,” Luke tried, pleading with him for more of literally anything—he’d even take more of Ashton spanking him, for fuck’s sake—he’d take anything that could get him closer to the orgasm that had been building up since Ashton first touched his cock.

“ _Louder_ ,” Ashton commanded, and Luke wondered absently if he had specifically told Michael and Calum to listen to them, for some reason. His hips bucked forward on their own, searching for friction to combat the tightness in his abdomen that was begging to be taken care of. Luke groaned, throaty and full, and Ashton apparently deemed this enough for now. He returned his mouth to Luke’s ass, this time letting his tongue delve inside of Luke, stretching him out. He fucked Luke’s tight hole with his tongue, sucking at the rim every few thrusts—and that elicited the kind of response Ashton was looking for.

Luke nearly _screamed_ in pleasure, burying his face into the bed in front of him because as thrilling as the thought of his other two bandmates next door hearing was, he didn’t want to think of what would happen if the occupants of the _other_ neighboring room heard them. It was just that the combination of Ashton’s tongue moving slickly in and out of his ass, coupled with the sharpness of the suction from Ashton’s lips around his hole, was kind of definitely _too fucking much_ and Luke was absolutely certain that he was going to fucking explode if he didn’t get something a lot thicker and a lot harder inside of him, like, yesterday.

“Did I ask you to beg?” Ashton asked, and Luke hadn’t even realized he’d pulled away, hadn’t realized that he had been babbling nonsense and asking for Ashton to fuck him.

“Wh—” Luke began, but Ashton cut him off by roughly grabbing Luke’s chin and turning his face toward him. Luke’s hands folded together, wringing each other beneath his body. His cock gave an almighty throb—he always loved when Ashton got rough with him, though it didn’t happen as often as Luke would have preferred.

He met Ashton’s eyes over his own shoulder for the second time, and Ashton looked annoyed that Luke had disobeyed him again. His thumb was pressing into the front of Luke’s chin, his forefinger curled beneath it to keep his head at the slightly uncomfortable angle, and Luke felt ready to fucking blow.

“Did I ask you to beg?” Ashton repeated, enunciating each word clearly like Luke wasn’t just not listening, but couldn’t understand him either.

“You wanted to hear me,” he answered, and Ashton’s eyes darkened, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Smart-talk isn’t a good use for that mouth,” Ashton replied, and Luke shivered at that—he wanted to know what Ashton would consider a “good use” of his mouth tonight. Luke stayed silent, and Ashton continued, moving his thumb up to brush over Luke’s lower lip.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Ashton said, prodding the corner of Luke’s mouth with his thumb, pushing the piercing there to rest at a different angle. “Did I ask you to beg?”

“No,” Luke answered. Ashton swiped his thumb over his lip again.

“No,” Ashton parroted. “I didn’t. I wanted to hear you being grateful for what I was giving you. Instead, you were selfish. You wanted something that you didn’t earn.”

He removed his hand from Luke’s chin, pushing his face away, back down toward the bed. “Get up.”

Ashton stood, standing and waiting for Luke to do the same. It took him a bit longer, but Ashton was patient, almost unnervingly so. Luke took a moment to collect himself—even though he could feel Ashton watching behind him, he made no impatient noises or even any indication that he didn’t want to wait. He let Luke get on his feet at his own slow, shaky pace.

Luke turned to face Ashton, wiggling his toes against the carpet, trying to get some feeling back into his limbs after kneeling for so long.

“I’m a little disappointed,” Ashton began, stepping toward Luke. It was far from the first time that Luke had seen Ashton naked, but sometimes he felt like every time he did, he saw something new about his body, something new that he was glad he’d noticed. This time, it was the way Ashton’s collarbones jutted out just slightly as he walked, his chin angled down and casting them into even starker contrast. “I thought you were better than that, Luke.”

“I am,” Luke insisted, and Ashton smirked. His eyes swept over Luke, at where his hands were still tied together in front of him. His cock was arching away from his body, precome rolling down the underside—but Ashton could also see how he was keeping his elbows bent at awkward angles, preventing himself from accidentally—or otherwise—touching himself. Just a touch of pride swelled in Ashton’s chest; Luke had just slipped, clearly. Still, that didn’t meant Ashton wanted to just _give_ him what he was asking for.

“Are you?” Ashton said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” Luke said, not quite naive enough to think Ashton was going to give in to Luke’s desires, but hopeful that maybe he’d take some kind of pity on him.

“On the bed,” Ashton said, and Luke nearly missed it, so wrapped in his own thoughts as he was. That was all he needed—not listening for a third time.

Luke hesitated for only a moment, to ask, “How?”

“On your knees,” Ashton answered, not even looking at Luke anymore; he’d turned away to retrieve a bottle of lube he kept stashed in a pocket inside of his bag.

Luke glanced over at Ashton, hoping he had a little bit of time before Ashton turned back around. He wanted to be in the requested position before Ashton was back on his feet, nearing him. Grateful that Ashton had bound his hands in front of his body, Luke crawled onto the bed, using his elbows in place of his hands. He moved to the middle of the bed, leaning forward and letting his chest lean against the mattress, making sure to spread his knees out, presenting himself to Ashton. He glanced over his shoulder; Ashton was still kneeling beside his bag. _Good_. When he stood and turned around he’d be met with the sight of Luke, his hole already prepped partly by Ashton’s tongue, ready to be fingered open and then fucked.

Luke lowered his forehead to rest against the bed too, his cheek beside his hands; he didn’t have to wait much longer for a reaction from Ashton, but it really wasn’t the one he was expecting.

Ashton snickered at him. It was unmistakable. Ashton thought that Luke was amusing, somehow. Despite being somewhat offended, Luke resisted the urge to move or backtalk him, instead staying still. The bed dipped down behind him, and Luke felt Ashton’s hands on his thighs, curling around his legs.

“You still think I’m going to fuck you?” Ashton said, voice quiet.

Luke didn’t answer; he didn’t have to, because Ashton answered the question for both of them. He didn’t speak, but pushed Luke’s legs closer together, closing the gap between his thighs. Luke wrapped his left hand around his right wrist, giving himself something to hold onto, because he knew Ashton was up to something. He didn’t think he’d spank him again—Luke should be so lucky—but if he wasn’t going to fuck him, he was going to do something else, something that Luke was sure would be mostly for Ashton’s benefit.

Ashton’s hands moved up to Luke’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart as much as he could while his knees were pressed together, and Luke squeezed his wrist, his fingers pressing against his own skin in anticipation. He felt Ashton shift closer, his weight displacing Luke’s knees just a little on the bed. Without waiting for Ashton to reprimand him, Luke pressed his legs back together; Ashton stroked his hip gently, wordlessly praising him for his good behavior.

But, still, it didn’t change anything. Ashton moved as close as he could to Luke, the head of his dick nudging the back of Luke’s thigh, smearing his own precome over his skin. He bit back a small moan at finally having some contact and pressure on his own cock, teeth digging into the inside of his cheek—Luke was the one who could moan and sigh and let all those pretty noises out. Ashton had to keep his shit _together_. Lifting one hand from Luke’s body, Ashton angled his cock up between Luke’s asscheeks, nestling it between them and thrusting upward. He allowed himself a sigh.

Luke gasped below him; Ashton was going to use him, and all Luke would get was even more worked up. Ashton’s length was hard and hot, dragging against his hole and providing constant pressure. It made Luke crave Ashton, crave the feeling of being filled up and fucked until all he could say was Ashton’s name, the word falling from between his lips like a blessing or a curse. Sometimes Luke wasn’t sure which it was.

Ashton had moved his hands back to Luke’s ass, fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he spread Luke apart; he kept his hips moving slowly, letting his dick move over Luke without any real friction between them. Luke whined, loudly, but Ashton made no indication that he was going to change what he was doing.

“What?” he asked, his tone mocking Luke. “You think I should give you more than this?” Luke said nothing, but Ashton continued. “I’m going to use you to get myself off. And then, if you’re lucky, I’ll let you suck my cock.” Luke whimpered softly, nodding—that sounded fair to him.

“Good boy,” Ashton said, but there was a clear edge to it, a derision that Luke knew Ashton only used in situations like this.

Ashton pushed Luke’s cheeks back together around his dick, rocking his hips back and forth into the boy beneath him. The one upside was that he was counting this as a punishment for Luke—it felt like fucking, at least rhythmically, and it was probably killing Luke to have Ashton’s cock working over him but not inside him. As far as Ashton was concerned, though, he wasn’t really getting much out of this either—he already knew how hot and tight Luke felt from the inside, and he was longing to be inside of him; it was almost like he wasn’t just depriving Luke, but himself as well.

He didn’t pull away just yet, squeezing Luke’s ass and rutting his hips forward into him until Luke was whining; no words, just sounds that made it clear he wanted more. Ashton pulled away from him, lowering his hands from Luke to pick up the bottle of lube at his side.

“Don’t move,” Ashton said, even though he didn’t think Luke would even consider it—after everything so far tonight, Luke would probably not only obey any command Ashton gave him, but also not move an inch without being told to do so.

Ashton flicked the bottlecap open and squeezed, pouring some lube onto his palm, placing the bottle back down afterward. He coated his cock with a few quick strokes, then slid his forefinger into Luke’s hole. Luke groaned, clearly not expecting the intrusion, and pushed back into Ashton’s finger. Ashton allowed it; he wanted Luke loose and ready for his cock, so the enthusiasm was not only appreciated but indicative that Luke could take more. Gently, slowly, Ashton teased entrance with his middle finger as well. It slipped in beside the first one, and Luke absently mumbled various words affirming that this was the correct course of action, as far as he was concerned.

“Open your knees,” Ashton said, and Luke hastened to listen, parting his legs. Scissoring his fingers, Ashton fucked Luke slowly with them, trying hard to avoid giving him any more pleasure than necessary—he was going to _use_ Luke, not let him come. He kept his fingers moving into Luke as he stroked himself—he wanted to come deep inside of Luke and then pull out of him, drawing out the time until Luke got to come too, teach him that he had to be a good boy and _listen_ , and then he would get his.

Ashton bit his lip as he jerked himself off, the slickness of the lube on his palm only facilitating his movements. He stretched Luke slowly, watching as he tried to push his hips back into Ashton’s fingers. Since he was working with just one hand, Ashton allowed Luke to fuck himself on his fingers, waiting until Luke was rocking backward desperately before lifting his hand from his cock, holding Luke still for a moment as he angled a third finger inside of him. Luke mewled at the feeling of being stretched but not _full_ , but Ashton did nothing to assuage him and instead kept his fingers moving in and out of Luke, slowly, working him open for his cock.

Luke’s breaths were coming shorter each time Ashton fucked into him, letting his fingers spread out inside Luke, gradually easing him open. “Are you ready?” Ashton asked, voice low—though Luke didn’t miss the genuine concern for his wellbeing behind the question—and Luke answered with an ardent “ _Fuck yes_.” Ashton allowed himself a small chuckle and gave Luke a little slap on the ass, warning him not to push it, then slowly slipped his fingers out. He rose up onto his knees and leaned forward again, letting the head of his cock drag over Luke, but this time it was clear that his intent was to move into him.

The head of his cock caught on Luke’s loose rim and Ashton nudged his hips forward just a bit, using his thumb and forefinger to guide his dick into Luke. The head slipped in and he and Luke both groaned, though Luke’s sounded like it had been punched out of his chest, where Ashton’s was more relieved. Luke was tight around him, and Ashton wanted nothing more than to fuck into his tight heat and tell Luke to tighten down around him, make him do all the work to bring Ashton to orgasm.

“You feel good,” Luke said, breathless, as Ashton pushed his hips forward, moving into Luke in one fluid motion. He rested his hands on either of Luke’s hips once he was fully inside of him.

“You do too, Lukey,” Ashton whispered, then rocked his hips forward, like he was trying to move even further into Luke, trying to get his dick as deep as possible. Luke moaned; he clenched his ass around Ashton without even being told to do so, and Ashton leaned further over Luke, letting his chest rest against Luke’s back.

“Do that again,” Ashton said, and Luke did, squeezing down on Ashton’s cock inside of him. Luke moaned and Ashton rolled his hips. “Keep going.” Luke repeated the action, his muscles tightening repeatedly. Ashton fucked Luke, barely moving out of him before pushing back in, as deep as he could fucking get. He was glad he’d jerked off before doing this, because it felt good (like...ridiculously so) and he was already close. He pulled out just a bit and snapped his hips back in, moving just enough to get the necessary friction on his own dick but not to satisfy Luke.

“Ash,” Luke mumbled. “Want to come.” He was too far gone to remember that Ashton had told him not to beg—but so was Ashton. He could feel his lower body tensing, coiling, ready to snap. Ashton didn’t know if Luke timed it, or if it was just a happy accident, but he pulled out and fucked back into him at the same moment Luke tightened around his dick. Ashton felt his fingertips dig into Luke’s hips, holding him as he came, hard, his breath catching in his throat and his eyes fluttering shut. He moaned Luke’s name, letting his forehead rest against his back, breath warm on Luke’s skin. It made Luke shudder a little, but he didn’t move—as far as he knew, Ashton wasn’t finished with him yet.

Ashton, however, knew he was. He pulled out of Luke slowly, rubbing his thumb over his hole before moving away entirely. “Off the bed,” Ashton said, gesturing vaguely to Luke’s left. “On your knees.”

Luke wasn’t even sure if he could move properly—his dick was so hard he thought that any movement might set him off. He rolled onto his side, pushing himself into a sitting position and inching over to the edge of the bed before sliding off of it. He was a bit more steady on his feet this time, so he was able to turn around quicker, in time to see Ashton wiping his cock off with the sheet. He glanced up and met Luke’s eyes, then slid himself over to the edge of the bed as well.

He stayed where he was, though, sitting on the edge, legs spread. He looked up at Luke. “What part of ‘on your knees’ did you not get?”

Luke dropped immediately, his hands still tied before him. Ashton snapped his fingers, pointed at Luke’s bound wrists, and gestured for Luke to offer them to him. He did, holding his hands up to Ashton, who untied the bandana with deft fingers, tossing it aside. Luke looked up at Ashton this time, his cock arching away from his body, the head practically glistening from the sheer amount of precome coating it. He lowered his hands to rest on his thighs, watching Ashton for instructions.

“I want you to touch yourself,” Ashton instructed. Luke didn’t move; he could tell there was more. “But I get to come again before you do.” He took his cock in one hand, reaching for Luke’s hair with the other; tangling his fingers into the blonde locks, he pulled Luke closer and angled his cock toward Luke’s mouth. Luke bent his back, parting his lips and taking the head into his mouth, sucking right away. Ashton was still half-hard, so it didn’t take much for him to harden again completely in Luke’s mouth, his tongue pressing up flat against the underside of the head. Luke leaned in further, taking more of Ashton’s length into his mouth. He swallowed around him, hoping he could coax another orgasm from him quickly, and then get to stroke himself off too.

“Touch yourself, Luke,” Ashton said, an edge to his voice despite having his dick sucked. “I won’t tell you again.” He pointedly leaned to one side to make sure Luke listened to him—and he did, moving his right hand to wrap around his cock as he lifted his left to rest on Ashton’s thigh, giving himself some leverage as he sucked him off.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” Ashton said, though this time a slight breathlessness betrayed him. “Did you forget how to listen?”

Luke hummed around Ashton, trying to convey that he hadn’t—he was just having an off night, or something. It could happen to anyone.

“Fuck,” Ashton muttered, forgetting how he was supposed to keep himself together. He pulled Luke’s mouth further onto him, his hand still fisted in his hair. Luke hummed again, proud that it was affecting Ashton—he could taste Ashton’s precome leaking from his tip, and that spurred him on even more. He tightened his hand around himself, smearing his thumb through the precome collected at the head of his own dick, then teasing his slit before doing the same to Ashton with his tongue. Ashton arched his back—Luke could see it if he looked up through his eyelashes—and he pulled off a bit, jerking Ashton off into his mouth, the head resting between his lips. He moved both hands at the same speed, feeling his own orgasm approaching and hoping like hell that Ashton came before he did.

Luke let his tongue trail over Ashton in his mouth as he jerked him off. Ashton’s hand was tight around the fistful of Luke’s hair he had, tugging it but managing to resist the urge to feed Luke his cock again.

“Swallow it,” Ashton said, and Luke hummed low in his throat, taking Ashton just a bit further into his mouth. Luke moaned loudly as he came, all over the carpet and his own hand, unable to hold himself back anymore; his hole was clenching down on nothing, and he wished desperately that Ashton was still inside of him. He moaned one final time, not even caring that Ashton would probably punish him for coming first—but Ashton was coming too, before Luke even had the presence of mind to realize it. He found himself with a mouthful of come, with both of Ashton’s hands carding through his hair, and he closed his eyes in contentment. Ashton gently smoothed Luke’s hair back down as Luke swallowed, moving back and sighing softly.

Ashton cleared his throat after a moment, and Luke finally opened his eyes. Ashton didn’t look mad. That was definitely good.

“I told you not to come first,” he said, and Luke nodded. Instead of scolding him, or keeping the scene going, Ashton patted the bed beside him. Luke stood after a moment, realizing Ashton wanted Luke to sit beside him. He stood, legs a little wobbly again, then sat, looking over.

“I don’t know how you’d feel about this,” Ashton said, meeting Luke’s gaze. “But maybe next time, we can do...what you want?” It was the easiest way Ashton could explain that he wanted Luke to be in charge of _him_ for a change, to give Ashton orders and punish Ashton for disobeying.

Luke’s eyes widened at the suggestion, and then narrowed as he considered it. “It’s worth a shot,” he said, finally, then laughed as Ashton leaned over, tackling him to the bed, lips on Luke’s neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Chapter 1 written by Jess._


	2. Chapter 2

Michael wasn’t sure where Luke or Calum were or what they were doing. They had all definitely made it aboard the bus, all separating to different areas for the first hour or so.

As soon as he’d climbed up the steps, though, Michael made a beeline to the small dining area, where a box of strawberry Pop Tarts was waiting with his name on it. Ashton headed to his bunk—Michael fully expected him to try and nap with his earbuds in, and totally fail when the rest of them made enough noise to drown out whatever music he was listening to, only to have him emerge from the curtained space ready to scold them. Luke disappeared into the back, along with Calum.

But Michael...he had put in a special request with their crew for Pop Tarts at every stop on their tour so far, and tonight was the first night someone had managed to get him a box. He wasn’t waiting any longer. As far as he was concerned, post-gig was the best time for Pop Tarts.

Luke and Calum laughed at something from the back of the tour bus; Michael wasn’t close enough for it to bother him, but Ashton poked his head out of his bunk and shouted back at them.

“Oy!” he called. “Some of us are trying to get some rest!”

“Sorry,” Luke responded, just before Calum added “Not sorry!” The two of them dissolved into laughter again. Ashton, who recognized a lost cause when he saw one, sighed and turned, now looking for Michael. If he couldn’t yell at Luke and Calum, he’d settle for scolding Michael, who more often than not was doing something he found unsavory.

“Michael,” came Ashton’s voice, his tone clearly disapproving.

“What?” Michael asked, not looking over at him, instead looking down at the blue box in his hands, ripping the cardboard top open. The foil-wrapped packages glinted in the lights above his head, and he pulled a package out of the box reverently.

“What are you eating those now for?” If he’d bothered to look, he would see Ashton’s glasses resting on the tip of his nose, making his glare at Michael about three times as potent.

“I’m hungry,” Michael said, rolling his eyes a little, because, _obviously_.

“It’s too late for snacks,” Ashton said; he shifted himself a little in his bunk, and Michael had a very real fear for a moment that Ashton was going to come out from his bunk and confiscate his Pop Tarts.

“I’m just gonna have one,” Michael lied, the foil crinkling between his fingers as he pulled one end open. The overly-sweet scent of processed strawberry goo reached his nose, and he smiled despite himself.

“Just one,” Ashton repeated—he stifled a yawn and then tugged his bunk curtain closed, leaving Michael alone.

Michael glanced over, not really believing that he could be so #blessed. He ripped the package open the rest of the way and set it down on the small table.

“Michael!” Calum’s voice sounded from the back of the bus. Michael heard Ashton give an overly loud sigh, but Michael just grinned and lifted one of the pastries to his mouth. He took a large bite, then answered.

“ _Wha_?” He didn’t bother trying to be quiet or subtle that his mouth was full of sugar and carbohydrates (both things Ashton was probably judging him for), and Ashton sighed again, very clearly being passive-aggressive. No one else cared.

“Come back here!” Calum shouted, probably louder than he had to, but the third sigh from Ashton, clearly being forced out of his lungs to convey how annoyed he was, made it worth it. Michael chuckled and took another bite of his Pop Tart, then grabbed the second one from its foil wrapper and headed past Ashton, still huffing and puffing in his bunk, to Calum and Luke.

“Pop Tart?” Michael asked as he entered the back room. The overhead lights were off, but he was pleased to see that someone had plugged in the Christmas lights they’d strung up, giving the area a dim, multicolored glow.

“Mood lighting?” Michael said, not giving either of them time to answer his first question. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down, though it may have been lost in the darkness of the room.

“Yes to both,” Luke said, lifting one hand and holding it out to Michael, pointing at the Pop Tart in his hand. Michael handed it over, and Luke took a bite before offering it to Calum, who shook his head.

“What are you guys doing back here?” Michael asked, flopping down on the couch beside Calum. The TV wasn’t on, and it wasn’t like they could see well enough to do much of anything.

“You guessed it,” Calum said, lowering his voice. Michael shrugged, so Calum explained. “Mood lighting? What do you think we were doing.”

Michael gasped, clapping his free hand to his chest, pretending to be scandalized. He held the pose for a moment, then, without moving any other part of his body, lifted his other hand to pop the last bit of the pastry in his mouth. Luke snickered.

“So, what, you wanted a little threesome action?” Michael asked, adjusting his position so he was sitting with one leg folded in front of him, turned sideways on the couch.

“No,” Luke answered. “I’m, uh. I mean, when we get to the hotel, I think Ashton and I might...you know. Do stuff.”

Calum smirked, but Michael was never one to cut Luke a break. “You mean have sex? Lie together? Know each other, biblically? _Make the beast with two backs_?”

“Shut up,” Luke said, glad the colored lighting in the room disguised any color that may have cropped up on his cheeks.

“He was actually telling me,” Calum said, stepping in to try and help Luke save face. He kept his voice low—now that they’d been quiet for a few minutes, Ashton had probably either drifted off or was ignoring the slight murmur of their voices over his music.

Luke hit Calum’s arm with the back of his hand, but Michael didn’t notice. He was too busy eyeing the rest of Luke’s Pop Tart.

“Telling you what?” he asked after a moment of none of them saying anything.

“Tell him,” Calum urged Luke, pressing himself against the back of the couch so Michael could have a clear view of Luke.

Luke wasn’t sure he wanted to get so detailed with Michael, but he went with it anyway. “I mean—ok. You’ve heard how we are together. Me and him.” Michael shrugged, wanting more of an explanation. “You _know_ what I mean,” Luke continued, giving Michael a pointed look. Michael finally nodded. He knew.

He knew that Ashton could make Luke beg for anything. He’d heard it himself, only a wall or sometimes the door of a lock-off hotel room separating Michael from seeing it with his own eyes.

He knew that Ashton spanked Luke, and he knew that when he did, Luke made some of the most delicious noises he’d ever heard.

He knew that Ashton called Luke a good boy and praised him when he did good, or scolded and demeaned him when he didn’t.

Michael was very, very fucking aware of what Luke meant.

“I think I know what you’re talking about,” Michael said, keeping his voice light.

“Well, he wants to switch,” Luke said, and Michael’s eyes widened.

“He—what?”

“That’s what I said,” Calum chimed in, the smirk on his lips audible in his voice.

“Will you listen? Later. To us,” Luke asked, and even though it was phrased as though he wanted them to, it almost seemed like he was afraid the answer would be yes.

“Yeah,” Michael breathed—it would be stupidly hot to hear Luke bossing Ashton around, telling Ashton what to do. Ashton, the oldest of them, their unofficial leader, being dominated by the baby of the band would just be—fuck, it would be hotter than Michael could handle. He glanced at Calum, who was grinning back at him.

“Should we get started now?” Michael asked him. Luke rolled his eyes and stood up, ready to give them some privacy.

“Yes,” Calum said, moving one hand to Luke’s lower back and pushing him toward the hall where their bunks were located.

Luke exited the room with a snicker, which changed to a soft laugh when he heard Calum whisper, “You taste like strawberries.”

– - -

“Hi.”

Ashton looked up from his phone to see Luke’s face poking through the curtain of his bunk, plastered with the kind of toothy grin that Ashton had always found somewhat infectious.

“Hi,” replied Ashton. “What do you want?”

“Just wondered if you wanted some company,” said Luke. Without waiting for a reply, he climbed into Ashton’s bunk and nestled himself into Ashton’s side—clearly Ashton was getting company whether he wanted it or not (which was usually how it went with Luke, not that Ashton really minded a whole lot).

“What were you and Cal talking about that was so funny?” asked Ashton, lowering his phone and letting the screen dim to cast only the slightest illumination on his face.

Luke half-shrugged, but with him lying down it looked more like a weird kind of twitch. “Just saying…” He budged up a little closer to Ashton and lowered his voice slightly. “We’ll be at the hotel soon.”

Ashton couldn’t help but smile a little. “Luke Hemmings, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Is it working?” asked Luke, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. Ashton was fairly sure that he was doing it as a subconscious tic rather than some kind of seduction technique, but... _well_.

“Do you think it’s working?” countered Ashton, smirking slightly.

“So...it’s not working,” said Luke, his tone turning flat, before he turned his head and buried his face in Ashton’s pillow, far more dramatically than necessary.

Ashton almost laughed at that, but he managed to hold it in, nudging his leg against Luke’s slightly. “Did I say it wasn’t working?”

“If you have to ask me if I think it’s working, that _pro_ bably means it’s not working,” said Luke, his words muffled as he spoke them into the pillow.

“It just means I want to know if you think it’s working.” Ashton met Luke’s eyes, his smirk fully pronounced now.

Luke turned his head again to take his face out of Ashton’s pillow, quickly deciding that Ashton wanted him to believe that it was. “Yeah, I think it’s working,” he said, before correcting himself. “It _is_ working. I’m not just _trying_ to seduce you, I _am_ seducing you.”

He leant in even closer to Ashton, who looked torn between amusement and actually buying the whole seduction thing. Luke definitely wanted more of the latter, so he pressed on.

“And when we get to the hotel,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, “I wanted to know if you were going to let me take off all your clothes.”

Luke inwardly grimaced. Despite doing his best to keep it from sounding like a real question, it came out awkward and stilted and unsure—but if Ashton noticed, he was courteous enough to ignore it, simply cocking an eyebrow and prompting Luke further with, “I don’t know. Am I?”

“Yes,” said Luke, ignoring the instinct that told him he couldn’t answer that question _for_ Ashton, because that was exactly what Ashton wanted him to do. “And then...you’re going to let me do whatever I want to you.”

This time it sounded a little less unsure, a little more confident, so Luke moved his hand to Ashton’s thigh as if to emphasise his point.

“And what do you want to do to me?” asked Ashton, the smirk slightly faded now but still lingering on his lips.

Luke paused for a moment, finding himself faced with a very fine line. If he was on the wrong side of it, he was just going to sound like some idiot wannabe pornstar.

“I want to fuck you,” was what Luke eventually settled on, but he immediately regretted it. He had said it with the thought that the more straightforward he was, the less ridiculous he would sound, but it just sounded so… _dull_. Like he wasn’t even half as into it as Ashton looked like he was.

He gave it another shot—maybe just a little touch of the ‘idiot wannabe pornstar’ wouldn’t be so bad. “I want to…” He slid his hand up Ashton’s thigh, bringing it to rest on Ashton’s ass, and tried to think of what Ashton would say to him.

_I want to hear you beg for my cock. I want to fill up your tight little hole with my—_

Nope. Nope, no, definitely _not_. Those words would have sounded so natural and easy coming from Ashton’s mouth, but Luke couldn’t even begin to imagine speaking them himself and not sounding completely and utterly ridiculous. It would sound so horrendously corny if he even _tried_ to say anything like that, and it would probably completely ruin the moment.

Instead he just pressed a kiss to Ashton’s lips, hoping his actions would speak louder than any words. Maybe he wouldn’t have to do the whole talking thing to make this work. Ashton seemed to agree, as far as Luke could tell, because as they kissed, Ashton grinned and even shuffled forward a little more, pressing their bodies impossibly close together.

By instinct, Luke almost melted under Ashton’s lips, just like he’d done a million times before. It was only when they had been kissing for several long moments and Ashton hadn’t made any move to deepen it like he normally did that Luke remembered that _he_ was supposed to be taking the lead.

He pressed his lips harder against Ashton’s, but just as Ashton started to open his mouth in response, Luke changed his mind. This position—side by side and face to face—was definitely not an optimal making out position. With one arm trapped between his own body and the mattress, Luke wouldn’t be able to explore Ashton the way he wanted to. They needed to move.

Luke pulled back, unable to stop the smile spreading over his face when he saw that Ashton chased his lips when he broke contact. There was nothing Luke loved more than knowing that he was pleasing Ashton, and no matter how much he tended to lose himself under Ashton’s hands, that was always his focus, his centre.

“What—?” began Ashton, but his question was answered when Luke started to manoeuvre himself in the very limited space of Ashton’s bunk. He pushed himself up—a little overzealously.

“Ow!” gasped Luke as the crown of his head collided with the top of Ashton’s bunk. “Fucking...fuck!”

Ashton bit his lip, stifling the laugh that was threatening to spill. “Are you ok?”

“No,” said Luke. “That hurt like hell, what the fuck?” He looked up and glared at the top of the bunk, like he might intimidate it into offering him some kind of explanation or apology for daring to be in his way. When it didn’t, he rubbed his head and sighed irritably, swearing again.

“ _Luke_ ,” said Ashton firmly. “Focus, yeah?”

Luke looked down at Ashton, lying there, smiling and waiting, and...yeah. He could focus if _that_ was what he got to focus on. He shifted again, deliberately keeping his head low. What ensued was a lot of awkward clambering, and Luke was 100% convinced that he was ruining everything, but Ashton didn’t seem to mind, simply laughing quietly as he helped Luke to half-climb over him, eventually settling on his knees to straddle Ashton’s hips. As it turned out, this position wasn’t much better than the one they were just in—there wasn’t enough room for Luke to kneel properly, so he ended up stooping uncomfortably to look down at Ashton. He ignored it as best he could—they could probably spend hours trying and failing to find a comfortable position, but Ashton’s eyes were set expectantly on Luke, his body arched slightly off the mattress, inviting Luke’s hands to roam it at will. They’d be able to escape the confines of Ashton’s bunk soon enough, so there was really no point in making the effort to get comfortable.

Ashton smiled up at him. “Better?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah.”

Ashton nodded too—some kind of silent, subtle confirmation or guidance, perhaps—and it gave Luke a small boost of confidence that he hadn’t quite realised he needed.

Luke rolled his hips down into Ashton’s as he let his hands wander over Ashton’s body—no, _Ashton_ let Luke’s hands wander over his body. That was the thought that pushed itself to the front of Luke’s mind: Ashton wouldn’t let just anybody do this, climb on top of him and take control of him for the night.

And it was that knowledge that pushed Luke forward even when he felt mild apprehension tugging at his hands every time he moved them, telling him that he wasn’t doing it quite right, that he wasn’t being exactly what Ashton wanted him to be. Ashton had asked _him_ for this—only him, nobody else, not even Michael or Calum—so Luke had to deliver.

He pushed Ashton’s shirt up until the hem came to rest over Ashton’s chest, and then leaned down again to let his lips meet Ashton’s softly and slowly, hoping that he could maybe draw something from them that he could use: a moan, a whimper, a sigh, some kind of response that his mind could turn into a quiet reassurance, or even a lesson in the kind of confidence and surety that Ashton always seemed to exude when he took charge.

Luke hadn’t expected to need anything like that, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to dig itself into his brain, and the more he needed from Ashton to know that what he was doing right now wasn’t completely off-base. He just wasn’t used to taking the lead—away from the stage, without a mic or guitar in his hands, he was, and always had been, a follower. That was never more true than in situations like this, when his body was pressed up close to Ashton’s and their lips were locked together, the space between and around their bodies virtually non-existent.

A high-pitched, needy whimper nestled itself between them, and relief washed over Luke for just a moment, until Ashton cupped Luke’s face, his hands firm but gentle on Luke’s jawline. Luke pulled away from Ashton’s lips and looked down at him, the tenacity in his eyes telling Luke that it wasn’t Ashton that had been reduced to whining and whimpering.

“Sorry…” said Luke, his gaze drifting down to settle on Ashton’s collarbone.

Ashton moved his hand from Luke’s jaw to smooth back his hair. “It’s ok,” he said, deliberately keeping his tone soft. It was clear that Luke just needed a bit of encouragement. He only needed to understand that there wasn’t any big secret to this; it was just a case of doing what felt good. “Don’t overthink it. Just go with it, ok?”

Luke nodded, a new air of confidence settling around him. Ashton settled back, taking his hand from Luke’s hair, satisfied that he had done his bit in giving Luke a tiny push in the right direction and ready to follow Luke wherever he decided to take them.

Luke started by snaking a hand down between their bodies to cup Ashton through his sweats. Ashton was always the one who made comfort his priority after a show, changing before he could pass out of exhaustion still fully clothed, like the other three usually did. Luke had never given it much thought before, but right now he was glad of it—it made it much easier to gauge how he was doing. Ashton was soft right now, but that was fine—they hadn’t really done much yet, after all.

Luke moved his hand over Ashton’s clothed length, not jerking him off so much as letting the fabric of Ashton’s sweats create the friction for him. As Ashton’s hands settled lightly on Luke’s thighs, Luke took in the sight of Ashton, lying with his stomach bared, ready to do whatever Luke wanted.

What Luke wanted was to lean down and kiss Ashton all over, to drag his lips over Ashton’s neck, down his front, to push Ashton’s sweats down and take Ashton into his mouth. What he _didn’t_ want was to get too far ahead of himself—they weren’t even at the hotel yet, and it wouldn’t do to get them both too excited only to then leave them to the discomfort of sporting semis while they went through the rigmarole of checking in, bidding their crew goodnight and finding their rooms. He slowed his hand on Ashton’s clothed cock, deciding to take it a little slower until they were in the secure privacy of a real bedroom.

But Ashton had different ideas. He wanted Luke’s hands on him, all over him, not just on his chest and stomach, not just tracing the outline of his cock through the barrier of his sweatpants. He wanted Luke’s lips brushing over every inch of his skin, he wanted Luke’s teeth grazing his inner thighs, he wanted _Luke. Now._

He arched his back and rolled his hips up into Luke’s hand, fixing Luke with an unwavering stare—the kind of stare that usually accompanied a firm instruction or preceded a hard smack to Luke’s ass. It wasn’t even clear to Luke if Ashton meant to stare him down like that, but either way, it worked.

“Sorry…” muttered Luke, moving his hand a little more certainly to give Ashton the friction he was after. He leaned down further to press his lips against Ashton’s skin, before realising that an apology probably wasn’t the kind of thing Ashton was looking for. He lifted his head a little to look Ashton in the eye and then grinned. “Sorry.”

Ashton couldn’t stop a slight smile spreading over his face in return—Luke was cute, there was no arguing with that. And Ashton loved that side of him: the stupid jokes that seemed to get worse with every passing day, the bright smiles that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, the softness and gentleness that seemed to radiate from him whenever they messed around. But Ashton wanted more than just “messing around” tonight; he wanted a confident edge to Luke’s voice and a cold, steely look in his eyes. Luke had it in him somewhere, Ashton was certain of that—he could picture it too well, and in far too much detail, for it not to be a very real prospect. All Luke needed was a little nudge in the right direction.

“Can I touch you?” asked Ashton, even though he kind of already was touching Luke, his hands still resting on Luke’s thighs. It was less of a question and more a reminder that Luke was the one calling the shots, and if he told Ashton to keep his hands to himself, Ashton would.

Luke hummed in response, and Ashton slid one hand up from Luke’s thigh to slip under his shirt. His fingertips traced featherlight shapes along Luke’s lower back, and Luke hummed again at the sensation, just the right side of ticklish. He moved his hand on Ashton’s cock a little more, feeling how it has stiffened slightly. He wished he could say the same of his own, but he was still completely soft, the discomfort of being in such a confined space getting to him more than it usually did.

Before either of them could say or do anything more, the bus lurched to a halt, sending Luke toppling down onto Ashton, resulting in a medley of low grunts and huffs from both of them.

“Guess we’re there,” said Luke, thankful that they could finally get into a real bedroom.

“Wait—” said Ashton as Luke started to push himself up. Luke froze, a little alarmed by Ashton’s serious expression.

“What?” he asked.

Ashton sat up a little, a grin spreading over his face. “Mind your head.”

Luke fixed Ashton with his best deadpan stare, but he only managed to hold it for a couple of seconds before his lips started to twitch with a smile. He gave Ashton a small shove, pushing him down so that he landed back on the mattress with an exaggerated thump.

“Fuck you,” was all Luke said as he ducked out of the bunk, leaving Ashton alone with his laughter.

\- - -

Michael’s constant glances at Luke were painfully unsubtle, which would have been fine if it didn’t seem like he thought he was being sly about it. At least Calum wasn’t trying to hide the fact that he wanted to look, instead staring intently and unapologetically at Ashton.

Ashton, in turn, had his eyes fixed on the floor of the elevator, his duffel bag swung around somewhat strategically in front of him in an effort to hide the semi he was sporting. Not that it really mattered, since it was just the four of them in the elevator, and it wasn’t like Calum and Michael didn’t know what was going to happen tonight. But there was something about pretending to ignore that fact that made things just a tiny bit more thrilling.

Luke glanced at Michael, catching his eye. Michael raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Ashton, and Luke could tell he was trying to say _something_ , but he couldn’t figure out what. Which was weird in itself, because Luke and Michael had always spoken the same language, whether it was words or looks or incomprehensible sounds. To suddenly not be able to know exactly what Michael’s every gesture meant was...not a situation Luke was particularly enjoying.

Luke frowned at Michael, taking a small step towards Ashton. Michael’s triumphant smirk told Luke that he was probably on the right track. He looked at Ashton, who seemed to be concentrating _really_ hard on the elevator floor, and then placed a hand on the small of Ashton’s back. 

Luke’s touch snapped Ashton out of his thoughts and he turned to look at Luke. The wide, bright grin from earlier was gone without a trace—Luke looked serious, like he meant business, and it sent butterflies whizzing around Ashton’s stomach. _That_ was the look he’d been waiting to see since Luke climbed into his bunk earlier.

The elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors slid open. Calum, dragging his attention away from Ashton long enough to give Luke a grin and a wink, took Michael’s hand and pulled him along the corridor to their room.

Luke followed suit, taking Ashton’s hand and tugging him out of the elevator. He briefly wondered if it was too obvious that he was just copying Calum, rather than taking any initiative of his own, but Ashton seemed happy enough to go with it without argument.

As always, they both completely ignored the fact that they were officially booked into rooms of their own, Ashton bypassing his own room in favour of following Luke straight to his. Luke opened the door and half stepped inside, when his brain seemed to short-circuit and his feet decided to backtrack of their own accord, making him stumble back into Ashton.

Ashton caught him so easily it was like he had just been waiting for Luke to do something so ridiculous. “Whoa,” he said as he held Luke upright. “What was that about?”

Luke asked himself the same question as he turned to face Ashton. “I, uh...sorry, just like—maybe you should come in first and then me second? I don’t know.”

Ashton frowned, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, placing his hands firmly on Luke’s hips. He took a step forward, making Luke step backwards.

“Yeah, I know,” said Luke, wanting far too much to slip back into his usual role. “I know that, I just—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, you do,” said Ashton as the door clicked shut behind him. He took Luke’s bag from him and set it down with his own next to the door, before turning back to Luke. His hands returned to Luke’s waist as he repeated his words from earlier. “Don’t overthink it. Just do what feels good.”

Luke sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and then nodded. He leaned in, and Ashton made a conscious effort to resist closing the small space between their lips. It was up to Luke to do that—it was the tiniest thing, and nothing Luke hadn’t done before, but Ashton had a feeling it just might be enough to ease Luke into this.

It took a couple of seconds longer than usual for their lips to meet, but Luke caught on after a couple of seconds of Ashton staying still. When he finally crashed his lips onto Ashton’s with far more force and hunger than he had originally intended to use, he wondered if it was too much. Reassurance came in the form of a muffled moan from Ashton as his entire body relaxed against Luke’s, and for the first time that night, Luke felt like he actually knew what the hell he was doing. This was what he was good at—pleasing Ashton, touching and kissing him in all the right ways. He stepped forward, closing what little space there was between them, and let his hands roam Ashton’s body, under his shirt and over his nipples, and it was so easy and familiar that Luke couldn’t understand why he let himself fumble so much earlier.

Ashton let himself relax under Luke’s hands, but it still wasn’t exactly what he had had in mind when he’d asked Luke to take charge. When Luke moved his lips from Ashton’s mouth and down to his neck instead, Ashton took the chance to give Luke another gentle push in the right direction.

“Can I touch you?” he asked, parroting the words he said when they were squashed together in his bunk. He punctuated the question with a tug on the hem of Luke’s t-shirt.

Luke took his lips from Ashton’s neck just long enough to utter an absent-minded, “Yeah.”

It wasn’t like Ashton wanted to complain about that, exactly, because Luke was good at what he was doing right now and they both knew it. But it wasn’t really the response Ashton had been hoping for—as much as he wanted to touch Luke, he wanted even more for Luke to deny him, tease him, to make him beg, to hold Ashton’s hands still and tell him _no_.

“ _Luke_ ,” said Ashton, pulling his hands away from Luke’s body. “Can I _touch_ you?”

This time it was more pointed, sounding less like a question and more like it actually meant something. It seemed to grab Luke’s attention—he stopped sucking on Ashton’s neck and stared at him instead.

Ashton could practically see the gears grinding in Luke’s brain as he computed Ashton’s question, and when his expression faded into a slight frown, Ashton understood that the answer he wanted to hear was not the answer Luke wanted to give. Touching, being touched, anywhere and everywhere—it’s what Luke loved most, and he didn’t have the will to deny himself that.

So Ashton tried a different approach. “What do you want me to do?”

“I...want you to undress,” said Luke, still not sounding quite as confident as either of them would have liked. 

“Ah, like a strip tease,” Ashton joked, nodding.

“What? No,” said Luke, silently cringing at the idea, and at the fact that Ashton thought he was suggesting something so ridiculous. “That’s not—” He cut himself off as a telling grin started to spread over Ashton’s face. “Shut up.”

Ashton was almost on the verge of feeling bad for teasing Luke, but that immediately disappeared when Luke impatiently pressed their bodies even closer together and pulled on Ashton’s shirt. “Just take this off,” he said, an edge of authority to his tone that brought butterflies to Ashton’s stomach. Ashton lifted his arms to allow Luke to pull his t-shirt over his head, and then Luke’s hand traveled down to the top of Ashton’s sweats. “These can go too,” he muttered, in that same tone, his lips brushing against Ashton’s.

Ashton kicked off his shoes as Luke hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ashton’s pant, sinking to his knees in front of Ashton as he pulled them down. Ashton stepped out of them, completely naked now, and looked down at Luke.

“No underwear?” said Luke, smiling a little as he let his lips ghost over Ashton’s thigh.

Ashton shrugged. “Why bother?”

“You didn’t know we were gonna be doing this tonight,” Luke pointed out, straightening up a little until his face was less than an inch away from Ashton’s cock.

Ashton sighed as Luke’s breath washed over the head of his dick. Luke took Ashton’s cock in his hand and gave him a few slow strokes before placing his lips, just slightly parted, to the tip. Without even thinking, Ashton let his hands find their way to tangle in Luke’s hair and rutted his hips forward just a little, enough for Luke to part his lips slightly and allow Ashton’s cock to slip into his mouth.

Luke’s mouth, as always, was heaven, and as Luke worked around the head of Ashton’s cock with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks every now and then when he took Ashton a little deeper, Ashton couldn’t help but lean his head back against the door, his fingers curling a little tighter in Luke’s hair.

“Fuck...you’re so good…” he breathed, dropping his head down to look at Luke.

Luke looked up at him, eyes wide and bright, and it was that sight, so familiar to Ashton, that reminded him that this wasn’t the way things were supposed to be going tonight. Reluctantly, he removed his hands from Luke’s hair and forced them back to his sides, pulling his hips back at the same time so that his cock slides out of Luke’s mouth with a pop.

Luke was halfway to letting out a pathetic whine at the sudden loss of contact when Ashton looked down at him and said, “Sorry. Habit.”

“Yeah,” replied Luke, wiping his mouth and standing up. “Sorry.”

He leaned in to kiss Ashton again, consciously trying to keep it at the forefront of his mind that _he_ was supposed to be taking charge. Because it wasn’t just that Luke wanted to prove to himself that he could take charge, he wanted to do it for Ashton as well. It was never any secret that Luke thrived on praise, and even though tonight they would be turning the tables, and Luke would be the one doing the praising, telling Ashton how good he was, how obedient, Luke could never deny that most of his motivation for doing this in the first place was to make Ashton proud.

That’s why this pressure he was feeling—the pressure that kept making him freeze up and stumble and slip back into his comfort zone—was entirely his own fault. He knew Ashton wouldn’t hold it against him if he sucked at switching roles and decided he never wanted to do it again. It was so easy to imagine Ashton smiling, nodding, telling Luke that it was fine, no big deal, just an experiment. And maybe that would be completely true, but Luke would never let himself live it down if he disappointed Ashton like that, especially knowing how much Ashton had been looking forward to doing this.

“What do you—” began Luke, at the same moment as Ashton started to say, “Do you want to—”

They both stopped as soon as their words started to overlap, and Luke smiled sheepishly at Ashton.

“Sorry,” he said. “You go.”

Ashton shook his head. “No, you go.”

They could probably have stood there all night arguing about who should speak first, and they probably would have if not for the little voice in Luke’s brain reminding him that he was in charge, therefore he should speak first.

He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “What do you want me to do to you tonight?”

 _Eurgh._ It sounded like little more than a squeak, at least to Luke’s ears. Whenever Ashton asked him that, he always seemed to growl it out, the heat of his voice folding around Luke and licking at his skin, turning him into nothing more than a whimpering mess. But coming from Luke’s mouth, it was just too unsure, more like a request for instructions on how to please Ashton.

Ashton nodded. Luke was clearly trying, and bless his heart, he looked like he could really use some kind of reassurance that he was doing things right. And he was, kind of. Ashton knew exactly what he was trying to do, parroting the words that Ashton has said to him so many times before.

Ashton decided to keep his request simple—no use throwing Luke in at the deep end. “I want you to fuck me.” He added what he hoped was a little more reassurance by grinding his hips forward against Luke’s again, his cock hardening even more at the friction of rubbing against Luke’s jeans.

Luke bit his lip, then glanced behind him at the king-size bed, waiting invitingly for them to finally get started. He was just about able to hold back the “Erm” that wanted to escape from his lips, and say his next sentence with a little more certainty.

“Get on the bed.”

Ashton grinned, and Luke couldn’t help but grin too, because maybe he was actually going to be ok at this after all. He took a small step back, watching as Ashton walked over to the bed and lay on his back.

“Turn over,” said Luke, and he couldn’t help but be pleased with how commanding he sounded. Clearly Ashton felt the same, if the eagerness with which he did as Luke said was anything to go by.

Luke climbed onto the bed too, his knees settling either side of Ashton’s thighs. He ran his hands down Ashton’s bare back, savouring the way Ashton’s back moved when he took a deep breath in.

“Yeah, that’s good,” muttered Ashton absently. Luke smiled to himself—it was nice to have that kind of reassurance, even if it was a little out of place. It wasn’t that Luke didn’t know how to make Ashton feel good—some nights, he felt like he knew Ashton’s body better than he knew his own—but with Luke taking the lead tonight, it was just alien enough to make him second guess himself. But the little words of approval that slipped out of Ashton’s mouth, seemingly without him even realising it, were starting to build Luke’s confidence bit by bit.

Enthused with a little more faith in himself, Luke ran his hands over Ashton’s hips and then down to his ass, spreading his cheeks apart. Ashton let out a quiet moan, wiggling his hips with an obvious intent.

“Tell me what you want,” said Luke, proud of how he phrased it as a command rather than a question. Finally he sounded really sure of himself, and less like he’d never gone this far with Ashton before.

“I want you to tease me,” said Ashton. “Until I’m begging you to fuck me, ok?” As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back and try again to say it in a different tone, one that sounded less like an instruction. It obviously wouldn’t be fair to expect Luke to feel like he was in charge if Ashton was still giving him orders, but it just seemed to come out in the wrong tone before he could stop it.

Before Luke could say anything, Ashton continued, hoping he could get it right this time. “I want...you to go slow at first,” he said, very deliberately picking his way through the words to make sure he didn’t sound too assertive. “Slow at first, and then I wanna feel you…I wanna feel you…”

Somewhere in that sentence, Ashton’s brain seemed to short circuit and the words started to get lost a little—almost definitely a result of Luke’s hands wandering over his lower back, his hips, his ass. Ashton closed his eyes and stopped bothering trying to speak anymore, happy that he’d managed to get the assertiveness out of his tone just as Luke had managed to adopt it in his own.

Luke spread Ashton’s cheeks again and traced a single finger over his hole. “Slow at first…” he said, and Ashton nodded, even though he knew that Luke probably wasn’t actually talking _to_ him.

Tingles built under Ashton’s skin, excitement swirling in his stomach, as he felt Luke’s finger running over his hole, just teasing at it. A moment later, he felt Luke push against him properly, and every tingle, every spark that Ashton could feel immediately zapped out of existence as he tensed up.

“Wait, Luke!” said Ashton, relieved when Luke immediately took his hands away.

“What, what’s wrong?” asked Luke, matching Ashton’s tone with a slight edge of panic to his voice.

“Lube?” said Ashton, and he didn’t _mean_ to sound so patronising and impatient, but it was kind of a big thing to forget.

“Shit,” breathed Luke. “Sorry, yeah, I’ll just—actually, I think I’m out, do you have any?”

“Inside pocket of my bag,” replied Ashton. He felt the mattress bounce slightly as Luke jumped off, and he turned his head to watch Luke as he walked over to their bags. Luke rummaged around for the lube, his back turned to Ashton. Even fully clothed, the broadness of his shoulders was still impossibly striking, and Ashton couldn’t help but smile a little as he raked his eyes over Luke’s body. Luke’s build was everything Ashton could wish for on a night like tonight; his body was just made to tower over Ashton’s smaller frame. If only they could get their frames of mind to be just as perfect.

“Ok,” said Luke, turning around, clutching the lube in one hand. “Got it.”

His eyes met Ashton’s, and a slight smile crossed Luke’s face—half-bashful, half-sly; the kind of smile that said Luke knew Ashton had been staring at him, knew exactly what kind of thoughts were going through his mind. Ashton smiled back, not even able to find it in him to be embarrassed.

“Um...keep your eyes straight ahead?” said Luke. “No looking unless I say you can, yeah?”

Ashton nodded as he turned his head to face the headboard again, happy that he finally had an instruction to follow again, only wishing Luke hadn’t said it as though he was still seeking approval.

The bed dipped a little as Luke took his place again, and the next thing Ashton knew, Luke’s hands were back on his ass, his fingers now properly slicked up with lube.

Luke spread Ashton’s cheeks apart again and brushed one finger over Ashton’s hole before pausing. “Are you good?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Ashton. “I’m ready, I’m good.”

“Ok,” said Luke, trying to stop his mind reeling from the fact that he would have completely forgotten to use lube if Ashton hadn’t reminded him. He didn’t want to risk making another stupid mistake like that and completely ruining the whole night for Ashton. But now his mind had gone completely blank and he couldn’t even think of what else he needed to do before he started touching Ashton properly. The only thought he could focus on was fucking _lube_.

“Um...Luke?” said Ashton. “Either time’s moving really slow, or you’re not doing anything.”

“Sorry,” said Luke. “Sorry, I just...I feel like I’ve forgotten something else important. Did I lock the door?”

“It’s a hotel door, Luke, no one can get in without a key. You’re good, ok?”

Luke nodded, even though Ashton couldn’t see him. “Yeah, right, ok. Sorry.” He took a breath, wondering how he could revive the mood that he managed to completely kill. “Um...tell me what you want again?”

“What, you forget already?” Ashton joked.

“Shut up,” said Luke, lightly tapping Ashton’s thigh in admonishment. “I’m trying to rebuild the mood. Help me out.”

“Ok...” said Ashton, thinking that Luke’s tone, slightly impatient and altogether certain of himself, had actually made a pretty good start on ‘rebuilding the mood’, not to mention the warning tap on his thigh. It really just proved that Luke could do this, if he stopped overthinking everything.

“I want you to open me up slowly,” said Ashton. “Tease me. Until I’m begging you to fuck me…” He pushes his ass up slightly, wiggling it, hoping it would prompt Luke to begin.

Luke took the hint and pushed against Ashton’s hole with his index finger, sliding in slowly after a couple of seconds. With his other hand, he palmed himself through his jeans—he still wasn’t hard, and it didn’t make any sense to him. Ashton was stark naked beneath him; Luke had gotten hard at much less before.

He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, sliding his hand into his boxers, hoping the direct contact would get him going a little. It didn’t have the effect he was hoping for, not even slightly.

He kept stroking himself as he continued to work his fingers into Ashton gradually. He took it slow, partly because that was what Ashton wanted him to do, but more so it would give him more time to work up some kind of arousal.

Evidently, arousal was something Ashton was not having any kind of problem with, a tight moan spilling from his throat when Luke eventually pushed a second finger inside him, starting to stretch him open. It should have been a sound that went straight to Luke’s cock—he always loved hearing the sounds Ashton made, the sounds he could make Ashton make, but the only feeling it caused him now was a stab of irritation, immediately followed by a flash of guilt. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Ashton to make those noises—he absolutely did—but he didn’t think it was particularly fair that Ashton was the only one making those noises.

When Luke had three fingers knuckle-deep in Ashton, he was starting to wonder if he should just accept his lot. This—one flaccid dick, one boyfriend writhing beneath him and wanting to be fucked—was the unfortunate hand he had been dealt tonight.

He could probably get hard if Ashton sucked him off, but they were long over that hill. They were too far into this now for Luke to be able to explain why he wasn’t already at least half-hard. 

Briefly, Luke wondered if he should try to make Ashton come on just his fingers. But he knew that wasn’t what Ashton really wanted, and Luke was nothing if not a pleaser, especially when it came to Ashton. That was exactly why he was so comfortable giving up control and taking orders.

“Nghhh…” moaned Ashton loudly. “Luke, please…”

“Please what?” said Luke, curling his fingers inside Ashton.

“Just fuck me…” gasped Ashton. “I need you to fuck me…”

“Not yet,” said Luke, making Ashton groan again. He was beginning to regret asking Luke to make him beg. They’d spent long enough like this, and now Ashton wanted—no, needed more.

“Luke, seriously, please…”

“Not yet!” snaps Luke, a little too harshly. Without a doubt, he would if he could, but Ashton’s pleas were only adding to his worries and it wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Ashton startled at the uncharacteristic bite to Luke’s voice. It wasn’t harsh in the way it should be, strong and commanding; there was a clear edge of real frustration. Taking a moment to gather up his scattered thoughts, Ashton pushed himself up onto his elbows.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Luke.

“Don’t turn around!” said Luke, the note of frustration turning into something less sharp, more distressed.

“Luke,” said Ashton firmly, wrapping one hand around Luke’s wrist, wordlessly telling Luke to pull his fingers out of him. He turned around properly and settled on his knees, facing Luke. “What’s the matter?”

Luke didn’t say a word, only staring at Ashton and chewing on his bottom lip. He looked tense, which was wrong on so many levels. After a somewhat hapless start, Luke had started to find his feet—or so Ashton had thought, but the look on Luke’s face was saying he was more in need of reassurance now than when they had started.

“You’re doing great, ok?” said Ashton.

“Right,” said Luke, totally deadpan.

“You _are_.” Ashton leaned in to kiss him, tugging on Luke’s t-shirt. “Take this off, come on,” he said, wondering if maybe Luke just felt that there was something a bit off about being fully clothed and about to fuck.

Luke nodded, allowing Ashton to pull the shirt over his head and toss it aside. Ashton kissed him again, his hands running slowly down Luke’s bare torso, eventually coming to settle on his thighs. His lips still locked onto Luke’s, Ashton edged his fingers ever closer to Luke’s still covered crotch. As he brushed his fingers over Luke’s boxers, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right—it was only when Luke grabbed Ashton’s wrist and pulled back sharply from the kiss that everything clicked into place in Ashton’s brain.

He looked down at Luke’s crotch, and Luke let out a fretful, apologetic whine. “Ash…”

“Are you...really?” said Ashton, looking back up at Luke, whose cheeks were flushing bright red. “Really, nothing? Not even a little bit…?”

Luke bit his bottom lip again, looking like he might die of shame.

Ashton sighed. “If you didn’t want to do this, you should have just said…”

“I do want to,” said Luke.

“Well, you obviously don’t,” replied Ashton, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. It was hardly Luke’s fault that he wasn’t turned on by this, and the last thing Ashton wanted to do was make him feel bad about it, especially considering he looked like he wanted to fall into a black hole forever.

“I _do_ ,” Luke insisted. “I just...I don’t know...I’m just having a bit of...trouble? I do want to, I wanna do this.”

Automatically disinclined to believe him because of the rather telling complete lack of arousal, Ashton shook his head.

“I do,” repeated Luke, and there was something in his tone, beneath the sheer mortification, that told Ashton he was being honest. Ashton studied Luke’s face for a moment, just to be certain, and then nodded.

“Ok,” he said, kissing Luke again. “Don’t worry about it, alright? You just need to relax a bit. Come here.”

His hands on Luke’s waist, he gently guided Luke to lie down on the bed. He moved his own body to straddle Luke’s, and then pulled Luke’s jeans and boxers down, tossing them away like he did with the t-shirt.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, taking Luke’s cock in his hand and stroking it slowly.

Luke looked up at him, a blank expression on his face. “I...what do you wanna do?”

Ashton sighed again. “I wanna do what you tell me to do. You’re in charge,” he said, trying not to sound patronising.

“Right…” said Luke. “I...want you to suck me off.”

Ashton nodded, lowering himself until his face was just inches away from Luke’s cock. “You want me to suck you off? Get you hard before you fuck me, yeah?”

Luke could tell that Ashton was prompting him to take over, so he rifled through his brain for some words to say that wouldn’t sound too corny.

“Yeah,” he began, which he decided was a fairly solid start. Ashton took Luke’s dick into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks and moving his tongue deftly around it. “I want…” he trailed off, unable to think of anything to say other than repeating exactly what Ashton had just said to him. “Yeah,” he finished, inadvertently punctuating it with a tired sigh.

He stared up at the ceiling for a moment before he felt Ashton’s mouth leave his dick.

“Luke.”

Luke lifted his head from the pillow to look at Ashton, who looked thoroughly defeated.

“This isn’t working, is it?” said Ashton.

Luke grimaced. Ashton’s mouth had felt good—far better than Luke’s own hand—but the truth was, Luke was too embarrassed to actually focus on it. “Sorry,” said Luke.

Ashton sat up, shaking his head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“We could try it again another night,” said Luke, although he had a feeling that things wouldn’t go any better if they did.

Ashton shrugged and stood up off the bed. “Maybe.”

Luke sat up, noticing that Ashton was still hard, despite all of Luke’s very unsexy bumbling. “Do you want me to, uh, help you out with that?”

“It’s fine,” Ashton repeated. “I’m just gonna take a shower.”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said again.

“It’s not your fault.”

Luke nodded. He knew he wasn’t to blame, exactly, but Ashton just looked so dejected— _re_ jected—that Luke felt like he should apologise anyway. 

Ashton disappeared into the bathroom before Luke could say anything else—not that he’d know what else to say, because his brain was so muddled with embarrassment, guilt, frustration and disappointment that he doubted he could string a proper sentence together anyway. He just watched Ashton shut the bathroom door, and then huddled down under the bed covers, hoping that he might wake up back on the tour bus with a lot less sexual dysfunction.

He stayed like that until he was on the brink of falling asleep, and the mortifying reality of the night started to become a little more distant. He barely noticed the sudden thunk of silence as the shower shut off, and he was almost fully asleep by the time Ashton scooted into bed next to him, wrapping one arm over his waist, and pressing a chaste kiss to his shoulder as he pulled him closer.

– - -

“You don’t have to pull me,” Michael said as Calum dragged him from the elevator, even though he wasn’t resisting in the slightest. Calum just looked back over his shoulder, smirking at Michael and looking a little past him at where Luke had also taken hold of Ashton’s hand, tugging him along as well. It made him smile, eager to overhear everything that they were going to do to each other.

Michael stopped Calum at their hotel room door; Calum patted his pockets out of habit, feeling for the key, before remembering that Michael had it, which would also be how he remembered the room number. 

“You good, bro?” Michael asked, almost chuckling a little to himself. As excited as he felt, Calum seemed to be, like, three times as into it.

“Yeah,” Calum said, stepping into the room before Michael, dropping his bags immediately and toeing his sneakers off.

“I feel like you need to slow down,” Michael said, actually laughing this time, following him in and letting the door close behind him. He opened it again, hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the outside of the knob, then let it slam shut.

“I mean, I get you, but at the same time, I don’t want to miss anything,” Calum said, from behind Michael, and when he finally turned around he saw that Calum was already shrugging his shirt off.

Michael bit his lip, because while he normally liked to relax once they got to the hotel, maybe for once he could forget about lying down with his headphones on, listening to music until he drifted off, and instead screw the fuck out of Calum.

Definitely the better option, yeah.

Reaching up, Michael took off the snapback he’d put atop his head like a crown and tossed it to the side, pulling his own shirt off. He wasn’t quite as fit as Calum, but after all the time the two of them had spent exploring and learning each others’ bodies, it didn’t really bother him anymore. The way Calum always looked at him like he couldn’t drink his fill of the sight of him helped too.

“Do you think they’re at it yet?” Calum asked, unbuttoning his pants, but fumbling with them a bit—he couldn’t quite slot the button through. Michael watched in amusement for a moment, smirking, as Calum struggled with his pants, and instead of looking down at what he was doing, was staring intently at the wall between their rooms like he’d suddenly developed x-ray vision.

“I’ll check,” Michael said, wriggling out of his own jeans much more quickly, and stepping away from them, leaving a pile of black denim on the floor. He strode into the bathroom, flicking on the light (mostly to check himself out in the mirror) before grabbing one of the glasses on the countertop. He tossed the little paper topper into the sink and returned to where Calum had managed to unbutton his jeans, but was having a little bit of an issue pushing them down. Skinny jeans: the mortal enemy of urgency.

Calum watched Michael as he strode past, taking in his form, how he was tall and slender but still had just a tiniest bit of chub on his stomach. He fucking loved it, loved how soft it made Michael seem in comparison to himself, even though they were relatively the same size.

Placing the rim of the glass on the wall, Michael wiggled his eyebrows gleefully at Calum, then placed his ear to the bottom of the glass. He screwed up his face in concentration, eyes narrowing. He could hear them talking, but couldn’t make out any words. Either way, it didn’t sound like anything was really going on yet.

“I think we have a bit before they get into it,” Michael said, stepping away from the wall and placing the glass down on the nightstand. “Wanna kill some time while we wait for the goods?”

Calum grinned at him, finally working on pulling his legs out of his jeans—they were around his calves. Instead of pulling them off with his hands like a normal person, Calum was alternating lifting each leg so the tight denim only gradually moved off of him.

“Help me,” Calum whined, falling back to sit on the edge of the closest bed, slumping over to the side, his legs awkwardly sticking out over the edge of the mattress.

“Are you kidding me?” Michael asked, but he was smiling a little at Calum anyway.

“No,” Calum said, pouting up at Michael, who stepped closer to him; instead of helping remove his jeans, he climbed over him, one knee on either side of his body. Without needing any instruction, Calum pulled himself up further onto the bed, his legs still between Michael’s, who followed, leaning over him and kissing him right away, their lips meeting and Calum’s struggle with his jeans completely forgotten.

Calum’s hands moved immediately to Michael’s back, fingertips tickling over his shoulderblades and humming gently in contentment, finally satisfied even though they couldn’t hear anything from next door yet.

Michael lowered his body to rest on top of Calum’s, their underwear the only thing separating their bodies, but that didn’t stop either of them from moving against each other, their still-soft lengths moving together and giving them enough contact and friction to chub them both up, dicks pressing into hip fronts and thighs, depending on how they moved. Michael moaned softly into Calum’s mouth, their breath mingling as Calum pulled away from the kiss to angle his face up, away from Michael, eyes pointed toward the wall behind the bed.

“Anything yet?” he asked, like Michael could have heard something he didn’t.

“I’m sure we’ll know when they start,” he breathed; he’d focus his attention on Calum’s neck instead, if he wanted to talk rather than make out. He didn’t just use his lips on his throat, but his tongue and teeth too; Michael sucked, licked, nipped Calum until he was squirming, lifting his hips up unrelentingly, desperate for more from the boy above him.

“I don’t want to wait for them,” Calum said, rolling his hips up continually into Michael’s now, his cock fully erect. “Want to fuck. Now.”

Michael licked a long stripe up Calum’s neck, beginning at his collarbone, then nodded. “Ok,” he breathed, nosing at Calum’s neck a bit more before moving off of him, actually assisting him in removing his jeans this time.

Calum grinned up at Michael, glad that he’d finally gotten his way, as the pants turned inside out as they were pulled off of Calum’s legs, landing in a heap on the floor as Michael threw them down off the bed.

“Where were we?” Michael asked, but Calum shook his head and reached down to hook his thumbs beneath the waistband of his underwear, wriggling his hips out of them and, without lifting himself to sit upright, looked pointedly at Michael.

“When did you get so _lazy_?” Michael asked, but pulled them off of Calum anyway, dropping them over the side of the bed as he leaned down to kiss Calum, who spoke against his lips even as Michael was trying to turn it into something deeper.

“I just like it when you touch me,” Calum said, smiling against Michael’s mouth, and Michael couldn’t help but smile in return. He felt that way, sure, but it was nice to hear Calum did too.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Michael said, laying down beside Calum, stretching his body out beside him. Calum turned a little toward Michael, but stayed mostly on his back, his hard cock slotted on top of him in the space between his thigh and his flat stomach, and Michael reached his hand out for it. Instead of curling his fingers around it, though, he let his palm rest on top of it, splayed out, and dragged it up and down Calum’s length, drawing out short moans and sighs from his lips. Michael grinned at the response, then leaned up further, propping himself on his elbow, and kissed Calum gently.

Calum turned his face more toward Michael, facilitating the kiss as their lips brushed against each other’s, barely there kisses that made both of them smile a little—which was, like, super fucking gay, but who cares?

Slowly, after another moment or two, Michael hooked his thumb under Calum’s cock, lifting it up from where he’d been pressing it into his hip, and circled his fingers around it. Calum whimpered softly against his mouth, and Michael took that as his cue to keep going, moving his palm up and down Calum’s cock slowly, drawing it out, until he was arching his back and lifting his hips right up into Michael’s hand.

“Michael,” Calum gasped quietly, almost like he was holding back because he desperately didn’t want to miss anything from next door, even though it still sounded like Luke and Ashton were just sitting there quietly.

“I know,” Michael said, even though he had no real idea of what Calum was about to say. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against the slit in the head of Calum’s cock, working against it as he smeared away each bead of precome as it formed, slicking up the head of Calum’s dick, tugging on his length.

“Michael,” Calum said again, much more desperate this time, and Michael licked into Calum's mouth, kissing him, slow and deep, before pulling away.

"What do you want, Cal?" Michael asked, even though with how much he was whining and rolling his hips, Michael could just tell.

"Want you," Calum said, Michael's hand still working over his cock; Michael smiled against Calum's cheek.

"Even though they're not doing anything?" Michael asked, and Calum nodded, quickly.

"Yeah," he said, even though Michael was already pushing himself up and off the bed, walking over to his bag. Calum replaced Michael's hand on his dick with his own, stroking himself slowly as Michael rummaged around, finally straightening, holding a small, plastic bottle in his hand.

Michael snickered as Calum's eyes zeroed in on it, a smile twitching the corners of his lips upward at the thought that Michael was going to fuck him anyway, even though Luke and Ashton were taking their sweet time doing whatever it was they were doing next door.

"Wanna turn over?" Michael asked, kneeling on the edge of the bed, balancing himself for a moment while Calum decided what position he wanted to be in. He shifted himself up a little, so he was sitting straight for a second, then rolled over onto his hands and knees, spreading his legs apart as far as he could for Michael behind him. 

"Look at you," Michael said, walking forward on his knees until he was situated behind Calum; once he deemed himself close enough he dropped the lube beside his leg and splayed his hands out on Calum's ass cheeks, squeezing them as he pulled them apart. Calum breathed out a sigh, looking back over his shoulder as Michael hummed softly at the sight of Calum's hole, his thighs open wide below. He groaned softly as Michael used his thumbs to gently massage his ass on either side of his hole, never actually moving a finger over it but instead just touching around it, pulling it open slowly as he worked the skin around it.

"Michael," Calum whined, flexing his hips and angling his ass up a little more, so hopefully Michael would do something else besides spread him open.

"What?" Michael asked, like he didn't already know, and leaned down to gently close his teeth on one of Calum's ass cheeks, barely biting him and smirking when Calum whimpered, feeling Michael's teeth closed down on his skin. "You want something else?"

"Not yet!" came the faint sound of Luke's voice from next door, and Calum and Michael both looked at the wall separating the rooms. Michael quirked up an eyebrow as Calum turned to look up at Michael over his shoulder. 

"Was that Luke?" Calum asked, and Michael nodded, though he wasn't sure if what Luke had said was enough to assume that they were about to hear something excellent or not.

"That's good, right?" Calum asked at the same time that they heard Luke speak again, and it didn't sound good, really.

"Don't turn around!" he'd said, and Michael bit his lip, looking down at Calum, because even though Luke's voice was muffled through the wall, they could definitely hear a distinct tinge of worry to his words, like he was on the edge of losing his composure completely.

"Well," Michael said, sitting down with his legs folded beneath him, his hands still on Calum—everything next door had happened so quickly that he just hadn't had the presence of mind to remove them.

"Well," Calum repeated, and they both waited another moment for something else from next door, but they didn't hear anything.

"Um," Michael began, but Calum seemed to know where he was going; he pushed himself up onto his hands and looked at Michael again, meeting his eyes.

"I don't want to stop," he said, hoping that what they'd started on the bus ages ago wouldn't be over now just because whatever had just happened made Luke and Ashton stop. 

But Michael only grinned. "Then we won't stop."

Calum sighed, grateful, and lowered himself back down onto his elbows, his ass still up in the air for Michael to touch. And he did—he resumed what he’d been doing before they heard Luke, but this time, he swiped his thumb over Calum’s hole, drawing forth a soft moan from him. It made Michael smile at the sound of it, and it just spurred him on. He lifted his left hand, leaving his right on Calum’s ass to tease him with his thumb, and gave him a short slap on his thigh. Calum’s body moved, startled, and he felt his cock throb from where it was hanging beneath his body.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Michael said, voice low. “You like that?”

“Yeah,” Calum gasped, curling his hands into fists to resist moving one to touch himself, because he didn’t want to until Michael was inside of him.

“Good boy,” Michael purred, and even though Calum had never explicitly wanted praise in that form, it did make him feel good anyway. He hummed quietly so Michael would know he was acknowledging the sentiment, and then shifted his weight from knee to knee, trying to get Michael to touch him more.

“One sec,” Michael said, pulling both hands away from Calum’s body and picking up the lube, pouring some onto his left palm, letting it pool in his cupped hand. He snapped the cap of the bottle shut and dropped it to the side, folding his hand and dragging the first two fingers of his right hand through it, lubing them up—but instead of using one of them on Calum, he opted instead to rub his whole hand over his ass. Calum’s legs were parted wide enough that he could slot three of his fingers between his cheeks, rubbing them up and down in long passes over his hole, slicking him up but teasing the fuck out of him. The longer Michael touched him without any actual friction, the louder Calum grew, though he kept his face pressed into the pillows at the head of the bed to keep it down.

Finally, fucking finally, Michael lifted his hand away, admiring for a moment how wet and ready Calum’s hole looked, before he moved his right hand between his legs, dragging his two fingertips up from Calum’s balls, over his perineum to his hole, where he pushed his forefinger into him almost right away, and was met with no resistance.

“Fuck, Cal,” Michael groaned, breathy and low. “So fucking ready for my cock, aren’t you?”

Calum knew it didn’t really require an answer, but he just nodded anyway. “Yeah, Mikey,” he said, squeezing down on the finger inside of him.

“Gonna give it to you,” he said, practically mumbling, not even really aware of the words coming from his mouth. “Gonna fuck you so full. Deep.”

“Yeah,” Calum said again, swallowing thickly, “Mikey.”

Michael licked his lip, continuing to speak but not planning what he was saying—he was just speaking to speak. “Gonna make you come on my cock. Bet you’ll like that, huh? Want your ass full of my fucking jizz,” he said, absently, moving his finger more quickly out of Calum, who was wrapped up entirely in Michael’s filthy words, nodding with the side of his face against the pillow.

“Want it,” Calum repeated, his eyes heavily lidded and half closed, voice breaking when he spoke as Michael pushed his second finger into Calum’s hole, fucking him quickly, the backs of his other fingers hitting into his ass cheek, wet from the lube Michael had spread all over him.

“Yeah you do,” Michael said, focusing on how Calum’s hole looked stretched around his fingers, how his ass was tight around them, how it didn’t seem to want to let him pull his fingers out. He began a fast, rough rhythm—fucking into Calum, then scissoring his fingers open and pulling them out, stretching his hole open even further.

“I do,” Calum whined, clenching down on Michael’s fingers each time he moved them back in, desperate for everything Michael was giving him and more.

“Fuck—fucking gonna—fill you with my dick,” Michael said, voice splintering his words into half-groans as he spoke them, and Calum’s loud moan from beneath him only spurred him on. He slowed his hand down, fingers nearly moving all the way out of Calum, and licked his lip as he angled his third finger against Calum’s rim.

“Want them,” Calum mumbled, eyes shut, his curls around his head like a small halo on the pillowcase, their dark brown a stark contrast with the white linen of the pillowcase. They were all Michael could see—as he thrust his fingers into Calum, three of them in his tight hole now, Calum buried his face into the pillow, and Michael could only watch Calum’s back as his body reacted. He could hear the muffled moaning, see his chest rapidly emptying and filling with breath as Calum acclimated to the stretch between his legs; his shoulderblades were jutting up as his torso tightened up, keeping himself steady as Michael took up his hasty pace again, fucking into Calum hard and quick, the way they both liked it.

“Three fingers in you ‘nd you’re still so _tight_ ,” Michael said, his voice wound up. Calum moaned again, unable to really react any other way. Michael kept his fingers moving into Calum, moving the still-slick fingers of his other hand down his front, fingertips trailing over his stomach to slip beneath the waistband of the underwear he still had on. His cock was hard, tenting the fabric away from his body, and as his hand moved over himself, he moaned loud enough to rival Calum, who snickered.

“Remembered you—” he gasped in the middle of his sentence “—had a dick too, huh?”

“Shut up,” Michael said—it really wasn’t his fault if he forgot to pleasure himself when he was busy giving it to Calum. He was just so fucking hot, giving him so much to pay attention to, that his own needs came second—he liked getting himself worked up without realizing it, because he was working someone else up. Sue him.

“I remembered,” Calum went on, voice wavering as Michael’s fingers nearly slipped out of his hole. “‘Cause I want it now, want you to fuck me, Mikey, want your cock in me,” he said, and really, how was Michael supposed to deny him when he asked like that?

“Hold on,” Michael said, taking a breath through his barely-parted lips. He curled his fingers inside Calum for a brief moment before finally pulling them out—Calum made a soft noise of disappointment at the emptiness, but Michael ignored it in favor of plucking the bottle of lube from the bedsheets and flicking the cap open.

“Almost ready,” Michael muttered, wanting to let Calum know that it wouldn’t be much longer, even though Calum had turned his shoulders a bit to watch Michael for a moment before he leaned forward, resting his shoulders on the bed and lifted his arms, reaching back to cup his own ass, making sure that Michael was looking as he spread his cheeks apart, his loose hole opening as he held himself apart for Michael to see.

“Fuck,” Michael breathed, resisting every urge he felt in him to lean down and suck Calum’s rim as he fingered him again, and instead lifted himself onto his knees, standing behind Calum as he hastily pushed his underwear down around his thighs, not bothering to properly remove them. He dribbled the lube directly from the bottle onto his length, smoothing it over the shaft and head with his hand, then discarded the bottle, shuffling a bit closer to Calum. He didn’t need to do anything other than guide the tip of his cock to Calum’s spread ass, the head nudging the hole for a moment before he pushed himself inside; he moved in easily, the lube on his dick enabling him to slide deep into Calum right away, and they both groaned softly as Michael found himself fully seated in Calum’s ass before either of them realized he’d moved in that far.

“So big,” Calum said, a smirk on his face—Michael knew Calum was teasing him, just a little, but he didn’t give a fuck. He just went with it.

“Damn right,” Michael said, feeling warmth bubble up in his chest at how comfortable the two of them were with each other, how even when Calum made a joke at his expense, it didn’t upset him, but just made him feel even closer to Calum, despite how they were already as close as two people could get.

“Fuck me,” Calum said, voice dropping in volume, low and heady, pulling Michael back down into his arousal, wanting more dirty talk from him, wanting Michael to make him feel as dirty as the words he was saying.

“Yeah, I’ll fuck you,” Michael said in response, right away, not missing the cue that Calum gave him. “I’ll fuck you with this big cock, fuck you so good my spunk drips out of you when we’re done.” Calum whined and nodded, his hair whispering over the soft pillowcase as he did.

“Do it,” he intoned, flexing his hips and tightening down on Michael’s cock at once, and that was all it took before Michael was pulling out of him, nearly all the way, the head catching on Calum’s rim before he pushed back in, the front of his hips hitting into Calum’s ass, making him move against the sheets and pillows.

“Michael,” Calum gasped, fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, holding himself open, still, so Michael could see just how easily his dick was moving in and out of Calum.

“Like that?” Michael asked, slapping one of Calum’s hands away from his ass, letting his own palm splay out over his skin. Calum barely got out a “Yes” before Michael brought his hand down on his ass, bringing a faint red tinge to the brown skin.

“ _Michael_ ,” he choked out, voice tight, as Michael fucked him and lifted his hand, only to hit Calum again with the same force as a moment ago. “Oh my god,” Calum managed to get out, not even aware of the words falling from his lips, his breath catching in his lungs each time Michael moved back into him, the force of his thrusts making his ass ache a little. Michael hit him a third time and he was feeling the sting, the burn on his skin where Michael’s hand had struck him. He loved it.

“Gonna make you come on my cock, Cal,” Michael said, his voice buzzing in Calum’s ears, the only thing he wanted to hear besides the slap of skin-on-skin contact between them, Michael’s hips slamming into his ass, their thighs coming together.

“Make me come,” Calum said, his free hand shaking just a little as he moved it beneath himself, wrapping it around his dripping dick. The head was wet with precome, probably soaking the sheet beneath him, but he just smeared it over his length, the slit slippery as he worked his thumb over it.

“Gonna make you come,” Michael repeated, smoothing his hand flat over the dark pink splotch on his ass where he’d hit him. It hurt in the most delicious way, Calum thought, and he wiggled his hips just a little to try and get Michael to do it again. Thankfully, the message was conveyed—Michael pulled his hand away, the cool air of the room rushing in against Calum’s skin to make him shiver a little, before he heard the sound of Michael’s hand slapping him before he even felt it—but when he did feel it, he nearly broke right then.

Calum’s hips faltered in his rhythm against Michael, whose hips were still pistoning back and forth, his cock sliding wet and slick in and out of him, the sound of it fucking lewd and stupidly hot.

“Make me come,” Calum whined, repeatedly, the words on a loop as he jerked his dick, matching the speed with which Michael was fucking him; he kept on saying the same three words like a mantra, like he was begging Michael to do what he was saying.

“Gonna, Cal,” Michael said. “Gonna.” He sucked his lip into his mouth, watching as he fucked into Calum, and finally raised his hand to hit him one last time. Calum’s hips stuttered just as his hand made contact with his ass again, and then Calum was bucking against him, away from him, then back into him as his entire body shook with the force of his orgasm.

Calum’s pseudo-chant of “Make me come” had degenerated to just the word “Come,” like it was an order for Michael to follow; Calum’s desperate, fucked-out, blissful voice, paired with how tight his ass was as he came down from his orgasm, dragged Michael over the edge right behind him. Calum looked up over his shoulder as Michael’s eyes closed and his dark pink lips parted as he came, filling Calum up not just with his dick as he pushed against him, grinding his hips against his ass, but with his come too, leaving it deep in him, as deep as he could get.

He pulled out after a minute or two, maybe longer, maybe less, he had no concept of time when he felt so _good_. Calum whimpered quietly as Michael pulled out of him, then shifted so he was sitting behind Calum. Michael literally couldn’t help himself—he leaned in to press a kiss to the heated skin where he’d struck Calum, wanting to ease the pain he was sure to be feeling just a little bit. Calum made a small noise of protest, so Michael pulled away, without moving very far from him at all.

Slowly, carefully, he sat himself down behind Calum, who was still standing on his shaky knees, his elbows digging in to the surface of the bed, and Michael lifted his hands to either side of Calum's ass one more time. Calum smacked his lips together, not sure of what Michael was about to do but knowing it would fuck him up all over again. Michael's breath was cool on his thighs, and his eyes fluttered shut as he took a breath and lifted his head, pressing his other cheek to the cold half of the pillow, readying himself for what he now felt sure was coming: Michael's tongue.

With a loud gasp, Calum felt Michael's lips on his balls, kissing and sucking the skin of his perineum for the briefest moment before he dragged them up, leaning in further to press his mouth against Calum's asshole, his tongue flicking inside of him. Calum loosed a short, punched-out gasp because he lived for this but at the same time, he felt so tired and overstimulated that he just wanted to collapse.

But Michael's mouth was unrelenting, his tongue fucking into Calum's loose, wet hole, slipping as far in as he could reach, tasting nothing but the blandness of the lube. He withdrew, pulling another gasp from Calum, though this time it was relieved, like Michael would let his body come down instead of continuing to use him.

"Michael," he said weakly, but Michael didn't listen and instead slipped two fingers into Calum.

"Wanna clean you up," he said, letting his cheek rest against the curve of Calum's ass, and as weird as that was, it also made Calum feel just redeemed enough, like even though they'd fucked, filthy and hot, they could still have a nice moment too.

"Ok," Calum agreed, just going with it, because it felt good, even though he could feel his lower half unsure of how to react to Michael.

Michael pushed his fingers in deep, curling them slowly, before pulling them out. They were slick at the tips, pearly with his semen, and he grinned; he adjusted his position and took Calum's hole with his tongue again, flicking it inside of him, then against the rim, alternating to try and tease Calum enough for him to push Michael's come right back out to him.

"You're sick, you know that?" Calum said, laughing a little, weakly, but his voice sounded drawn tight—he'd mock Michael just a little bit, but that didn't mean he liked what he was doing any less.

"Mm," Michael hummed, affirming that yes, he _did_ know that, but that it didn't bother him either. He buried his face in Calum's ass, his tongue lapping at him from the inside until he finally felt a burst of the sharp taste of his own come against it, and he moaned, as loud as he could.

"Michael," Calum whined softly; his pale hands had wrapped tight around Calum's thighs, squeezing them tight as Michael sucked at him, tongue flicking against him before he closed his lips over him again, sucking at the edge of his hole, delving his tongue back in again and again. He swallowed what he'd left in Calum, closing his eyes because he didn't need to see, he just needed to feel and taste himself and Calum at the same time.

Michael pulled away after deciding they'd both had enough—he was too tired to go again, and Calum was wriggling, bordering on completely uncomfortable, the overstimulation taking its toll now.

Lifting his hands away from Calum's legs, Michael hummed and licked his lips before wiping them on the back of his wrist.

"Get it all?" Calum asked, conversationally, like they weren't talking about Michael eating his own spunk out of Calum's fucked, used asshole.

"You love it," Michael said giving the pinkish mark on Calum's ass cheek a small slap, causing him to squeal a little as Michael moved around him, and they both adjusted themselves on the bed.

"Maybe I do," Calum said, waiting until Michael had moved away enough that he could flop down onto his side; Michael did the same, facing him.

“Not a maybe,” Michael said, voice edging on cocky, pushing his head against the pillow, snuggling into it as Calum laughed at him, but reached up to thread his fingers through Michael’s fringe anyway. The gentle action just affirmed that Michael was completely right.

“Hey, so,” Michael said, after a moment. Calum met his eyes, inquisitive, but Michael just shrugged. “What about Ash and Luke?”

Calum hummed. “That was weird.”

“Should we ask?”

“Now?” Calum asked, pressing his thighs together—his whole body still felt electrified from Michael's relentless touching, and he didn't even like the feeling of the scratch of the sheets on his skin, so no way was he about to get dressed and go next door.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Michael conceded.

“Yeah,” Calum said, biting his lip. He flicked his gaze up at the wall, knowing Luke and Ashton were just on the other side of it, but having no idea what was going on.

“Goodnight,” Michael said, voice already sleepy.

Calum snickered. “Romance is dead. You killed it.”

“Snuggle me while I sleep, then,” Michael said, turning his face a bit further into the pillow.

“Goodnight,” Calum said, rolling his eyes but not minding. They’d both be asleep soon enough, anyway—but that didn't stop him from moving closer to Michael, letting his hand drape over his wrist before curling around it, all the contact he could bear, holding tight to it as they both drifted off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First scene & Malum written by Jess.  
> Lashton scenes written by Ally.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find us on tumblr at [maybeillfindyouhere (Jess)](http://maybeillfindyouhere.tumblr.com/) or [zaf-younis (Ally)](http://zaf-younis.tumblr.com/)
> 
> _Title from "Sink Into Me" by Taking Back Sunday._


End file.
